Oliver (Inked Menace MC 2) (2 page)

 

2
Chapter Two

“Is my sister around?” Amara asked as Hammer ran a hand down his face.

He pulled out his phone and said, “One sec, I’ll text her to come down.”

Amara nodded and glanced around the table of silence. “We’re half-sisters,” she said absently to the curious ones eye-balling her. She and Maura definitely looked different. “My father is an Indian snow leopard, my mom is fair-colored lioness. I take after my father.”

Maura had taken after her own parents, a pair of un-mated lions. Turned out their mother’s true mate was Amara’s father and they hadn’t been able to ignore the pull between them, no matter how hard they’d tried. Maura and Amaraynth had grown closer over the years, despite Amara’s need for solace and Maura’s desire to belong to a group.

“What can we help you with, darlin’?” Hammer’s voice cut through her memories like a knife.

“I need Lucky’s mate’s help.”

Beside her, the sweet scent of fear hit her hard as Lucky’s mate tensed.

“What? What can I do?” Her soft voice asked.

Amara shifted in her chair to face the woman. “A while back, your ex-husband backed a group trying to preserve wildlife in the Asian, Russian, and Indian parts of the world.” She raised a brow and waited.

“I’m Cecelia, by the way,” the woman said and held out her hand.

Amara inclined her head. “Amaraynth, but you can call me Amara if you prefer.”

Cecelia nodded. “Now that we’re on friendly terms, you can ask me what you want.”

Amara chuckled and noted the smile on Lucky’s face.

“Do you know the group he gave money to?”

She watched as Cecelia’s face scrunched and her brow furrowed as she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she said, “Vaguely. I can find out for you, if it’s important.”

“It is.”

Amara crossed her arms over her chest just as memories assaulted her and a fine sheen of sweat broke out across her body.

“Care to tell us what’s going on?” Hammer said.

She fingered the myriad of scars on her arms and shook her head. “Not yet. I need to talk to Maura first.” She bit her lip and resisted the urge to jump onto the table and kick some ass to relieve the inner stress.

Nobody knew what she’d gone through. The hidden scars, the emotional turmoil. The damage to her mind.

Luther was the one who’d found her half-dead on the side of the road. She’d crawled miles to get home, and then collapsed once the clubhouse had been in sight.

Amara shuddered and energy cackled from shifter to shifter, a live conduit stretching and binding them together. She sucked in a ragged breath and snapped the cord.

As she perused the members at the table, she noted the glowing eyes and felt bad.

“What am I missing?” Her sister’s voice cut through the angst and Amara spun, jumping out of her chair, and in one bound, wrapped her arms around her sister, inhaling her familiar scent and nearly weeping at the feeling of being home.

“Hi, sweetie,” Maura said and rubbed her back in soothing motions. “What’s all this about? You okay, baby girl?”

All Amara could do was shake her head as big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she broke into a torrent of sobs and quiet agony.

“Hey, hey,” Maura said, leading her out of the meeting room and toward a sofa near the back of the large open space. “You never cry, sweetie. I’ve seen you take a bullet, almost lose a limb, and chop heads off our enemies with glee. You’re scaring me, noodle.”

Amara lifted her face and tried to choke the deplorable tears back. She wiped her eyes and took a shallow breath, then another, and finally, inhaled deeply and settled her sadness behind the steel façade she usually wore. The one that made her feared and respected. If her club saw her this way, they’d think she was a pussy, and no, that wasn’t a compliment.

“You gonna tell me whose ass needs to get kicked, or am I about to kill the entire male population?”

Amara wheezed a chuckle out, then smiled at her sister as she pulled away and leaned back against the soft cushion, closing her eyes for a second.

“What the devil happened to your clothes, sister?”

Amara cracked open an eye and said, “Bastard cut me off on the road and I laid the bike down. I need to eat, is there any food?”

“You,” Maura said and Amara followed her gaze to one of the prospects. “Can you bring her some food?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the probate answered, and scuttled through a doorway and out of sight.

While the young man went to scrounge up some food, Amara weighed her options. She could lie and just say she came to visit, or she could buck up and tell her sister the truth.

“A year ago I was taken by poachers when I’d been roaming as a leopard. They shot me with a tranquilizer and drugged me. I never saw them coming,” she said, hiding her shame at having been so easily caught.

Maura laid a shaky hand on Amara’s arm, then clasped their fingers together. She cleared her throat. “Go on.”

Amara shook her head. “I only want to tell this story once, so can we go back in the meeting room and do this?”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

In reply, Amara simply nodded and rose to her feet, extending her hand toward her sister. Maura placed her hand in her sister’s, and after they both were on their feet, padded lightly back into the club church.

“Sorry about that,” Amara said to no one in particular and slid into her seat, resting her elbows on the table. Her gaze slanted toward Hammer then strayed toward Oliver. Her sister sauntered to her mate and plopped herself in his lap. Hammer rested an arm around her waist and set his hand on the table as he nuzzled Maura’s neck quickly.

“No problem. You were saying?”

“Right. So.” She blew out a breath and stared at a hole in the wood. “A year ago I was taken by poachers while I was hunting. I didn’t hear them coming, and they shot me with a wicked tranquilizer.  I woke in a cell.”

Her hands balled into fists, a wave of nausea rolling inside her stomach.

She expected her sister to ask questions, but was surprised when Oliver said through gritted teeth, “Did you kill them?”

It took a few seconds for Amara to gather enough courage to meet the fierceness of his voice before she said, “I killed most of them. However, the leaders escaped while I was busy with the foot soldiers.”

“When do you want to leave?”

His question surprised her and she sputtered, then regained her composure. “That’s why I’m here. Her ex-husband,” Amara thumbed toward Cecelia and continued, “funded the animal capture mission. I think the name of the company was LexCorp Int. From the Intel I’ve been able to gather, they pose as scientists and animal rights activists, then use the money for their sick experiments.”

“What did they do to you?” Flash asked from down the table. Her face was relaxed and her eyes were large, but there was a tick in her cheek.

“I don’t want to get into it, but let’s just say I have a body full of scars and some mental shit to work through, eh?”

Hammer said, “Sounds awful, truly, but what do you need us for?”

A lash of anger whipped through her like a tsunami of water beating rocks into submission. “I need nothing. I’ll handle it on my own.” She shoved her chair back and rose, her body vibrating with an incessant rumble ready to rock and throw punches. Amara leashed the violence, stole a breath, and repeated the mantra that had gotten her though the worst of times.
They will pay
.
They will pay.
She repeated it over and over in her mind until she calmed down.

“Can we talk more in a while? My stomach is empty and it’s frying my already overshot nerves. Plus, I’d like to shower and change my clothes.” Amara made a show of looking at her tattered leathers and pulled a few sticks from her jet-black hair. “It’s been a hell of a day, and an even longer night. I haven’t slept since yesterday morning before I boarded the plane.”

Meat opened his mouth, his arms still crossed over his chest as he glared in her direction, but Maura beat him to the punch. “Of course, sweetie. You go take care of you, and we’ll be around when you’re ready.”

Amara thrust her chin to her chest once, turned on her booted heel, and stalked out of the room charged with tension she’d created with her presence.

“Wait, I’ll come with you.”

The rough voice sent shivers down her shoulder blades, a small jolt jostling her pussy. She should have been surprised at Oliver’s near demand, but she shrugged and kept walking, waiting for him to fall in line beside her. The friction of her leathers between her legs almost made her moan. All the stress from the last few days was finally catching up with her, and her standard modus operandi for relieving pent up aggression was either bloodshed or sex. Amara was all too aware of the sexy man next to her. The animal inside her body prowled her mind, hungry for violence and retribution.

“I’ll show you to your room so you can change,” Oliver said in a quiet voice. Like he was coddling her, afraid she’d lash out like a cornered viper.

“Thank you. That would be welcome.”

“Do you always talk so formal?”

Amara tilted her head and stopped walking, facing him dead on. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”

Oliver shook his head and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Nothing. Forget it, my mouth sometimes has a mind of its own.”

Amara pressed her lips into a thin line and placed her hands on her hips. An awareness crept through her at the heated gaze Oliver cast her as his eyes slowly caressed her body from her toes to the top of her head. He paused on her breasts and licked his lips.

Shifter magic was a strange beast, and sometimes it was futile to try and fight the inevitable. Amara leaned closer to him, pulled by a cord she could feel but couldn't see, and whispered, “Are you with anyone?”

His face jerked upward and his mouth made an O shape. He knew what she was asking. He cleared his throat. “No. I’m single.”

The beast inside clamored for release. She’d become harder since her capture. Less inclined for mercy, and more disposed for pain. Something inside her had died when she’d been lying on that table, her insides torn open as the cruel scientists doped her up and studied her intense healing abilities. They’d been fascinated to the point of mercilessness.

“You okay?” Oliver’s voice broke through the memory and forced her back to the present.

“No,” she said and shifted from foot to foot. She ran a hand through her tangled locks and said, “Show me to the shower.”

Oliver rubbed a hand down her forearm, and everywhere he touched, tingles blossomed and stung. He brought his hand down and laced their fingers together, stroking her palm for a second before settling into a casual hold. He brought their combined hands to his mouth and kissed her skin, inhaling then lowering their hands and tugging her down a long, wide hallway lined with doors, numbers nailed to each one.

He stopped and pressed her against the wall, not touching her, but bracketing his hands on either side of her face. “Do you feel it too?”

Amara had given up games a long time ago. “Yes,” she said, and didn’t blink as she stared into his eyes. They glowed in the low lighting, small sunbursts of color telling her he was interested.

His face moved closer to hers with aching slowness until his mouth hovered just a few scant inches from hers. He smelled of earthen musk, clear running water, and a hint of citrus. If she could bottle it up, she would, and if she weren’t careful, she’d fall head over heels for this sexy tiger and surely regret it.

Of course, she’d probably regret not taking the chance even more. Tired of waiting, she pushed her face forward and licked a tentative trail across his bottom lip, then gently bit down and tugged before releasing him. He growled, and his hips pressed against her abdomen before his chest bumped hers, and two seconds later he was fully pushed against her, his mouth still hovering over hers, their breath mingling, drawing out the anticipation until neither could stand it anymore and they pounced on each other.

Fire danced and shimmied across her shoulder blades, sending a cascade of tingles down to her pussy as his tongue dueled with hers.

He pushed against her body and she pressed hard against his. His hand delved under her shirt, caressing the skin of her abdomen, and slid into the waistband of her leathers.

Someone cleared their throat, then her sister’s voice filtered through the sexy haze. “I’d appreciate if you’d take your tongue out of my sister’s mouth before I do something we’ll all regret, Pretty-Boy.”

A primal sound came from Oliver’s throat as his hands tightened, clutching her shirt in his fists as he kept kissing her.

Amara popped open her eyes and met the fierce golden glare of Maura. She smiled and raised a brow, mock-challenging her older sister. Amara reached behind Oliver and slipped her hands down his jeans and gripped his hard ass cheeks, digging her nails into the soft flesh, making him groan.

Maura’s face tightened and she shifted the tray of food to balance on one hand, then raised the other and slapped Oliver across the back of the head, a loud smack that barreled down the hall.

Oliver didn’t flinch at the contact, but he did very slowly ease his face away from Amara’s. She bit her lip and blinked up at him, inhaling, watching his pupils contract and follow the movement of her tongue.

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